


Briar Path

by Ladycat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Conditioning, Dark, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladycat/pseuds/Ladycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a very hard spell. In fact, it's down right simplistic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Briar Path

It's not a very hard spell, really. In fact, it's downright simplistic. Just a tiny, whispered little thing Draco will shudder and sigh, or shiver out a moan of pleasure, sometimes even touch himself with wonder ringing his pale eyes.

He has no idea why no one else knows about this. And he's asked, as discreetly as he can. He's done _research_.

He's tried it on others -- Hermione, on one never to be repeated occasion when he thought she needed to relax. It sort of worked for her, but not much. Just a little sliver of something she brushed off. After that, he stuck to girls and boys he wasn't close to, and the result was conclusive: they felt _something_ yes, but not like Draco did.

There's probably a good reason for it, but Harry doesn't care enough to check. Draco does feel it.

And Harry's much better at planning than any Slytherin's ever considered.

He starts out slow. A hint of pain when Draco does something Harry doesn't like. The use of mudblood gets more than just a hint of pain. Then, when Draco does something Harry _does_ like, Draco gets pleasure. Not a lot, usually. Just enough to make his eyes go wide as he shifts, trying to rearrange his robes for concealment. At least, not a lot at _first_.

It's slow going. Months pass as Harry leans more and more on his control of Draco to get by. Homework is a nightmare and Voldemort -- well, he doesn't think about that. He does think about the way Draco smiles more, loose and a little giddy as he glides through his day. He thinks about the way Draco's stopped snarking -- except when Harry wants it -- at everyone maliciously. Now he's an attack dog that only goes after the ones Harry chooses.

They've only had a few encounters. Harry's pretty sure there was actual attraction there to begin with, but his little spell has sped it along enormously. Draco's panting even before they into the nearest closet now, already sliding down to his knees with a little moan of happiness as Harry triggers the spell, rewarding him for his obedience.

They've done blowjobs, but not much else. Harry's pretty content with fucking hard and fast into Draco's narrow mouth, but he's still a teenaged boy. And he's curious.

"Take off your robes," he says.

Draco eyes him, frowning unhappily before he gasps. "Yes, yes, all right," he says testily. He fumbles his robes open, letting them slide down to the stone floors. He's wearing a t-shirt and boxers underneath, nothing else. "You might make it a bit warmer for me, if you're going to make me strip."

"I should've made you put on a show," Harry tells him, but he does warm up the room, adding a little caress of his spell when Draco takes off his shirt, fingering the hem of his boxers. He gets another one when those slip off.

"What about you?" Draco asks pointedly.

Harry just grins. "Nah, I'm good." 

His spell makes Draco shiver, nodding breathlessly. His eyes go wide as they look down his own skinny body before looking back up at Harry, still fully clothed. This time his shiver is all Draco and it makes Harry thrill. Train a pet enough and eventually they start training themselves. It's a Slytherin phrase, but it's appropriate.

Concentrating, Harry points his wand at Draco's discarded clothes. They shift, stretching and filling until a soft air mattress fills all the available floor space. He sits, gesturing for Draco to join him; he has to carefully keep his smirk to himself when Draco immediately tucks himself into Harry's arms, across his lap, moaning when rough clothes rub against his sensitive skin. He's panting and half-hard already.

"Very nice," Harry says. He pets over Draco's body, helpfully arched wherever he's interested especially after a little jolt of pain teaches Draco that he doesn't like that at all. Draco loves to be touched, anyway, and always has been. This isn't the first time he's stripped Draco down and run his hands all over his body, touching and learning and tickling all the places he knows Draco keeps hidden from everyone else.

But this time he has a plan. "Lift up your legs, pet," he says absently, attention focused on trying to remember the bloody spell. He knows it, all the boys learn it as soon as the have anything to masturbate with, but he always -- ah! Whispering the word, Harry smirks at the small tube that's conjured into being.

"I've never seen the spell used like that before," Draco says. His voice is steady, even sneering, but his chest moves up and down quickly as he pants. He's afraid, Harry knows. He doesn't know if he's going to be stroked to completion -- what they did last time -- or something else.

"You're just a little bit slow, is all." Harry smiles, offering a hint of pleasure as Draco's mocked and insulted. That's something new he's trying, since he likes telling Draco exactly how idiotic and foolish he always is, and wants Draco to like it too. "Berk," he adds and -- unprompted, yes, _unprompted_ \-- Draco moans softly.

Score for Harry, then.

Draco's got his outer leg propped up against the wall. Harry slicks his fingers and curves his palm around Draco's perineum, fingers probing in between slim, narrow cheeks.

"Oi!" Draco says, shifting suddenly. "What the bloody hell are you -- "

"Shut up," Harry orders. When Draco continues to look mulish, Harry frowns and offers a jolt of pain. It's not just a whisper this time, but an actual hit, like he's struck Draco across the arse or his face. Draco starts, scared, but he still clamps his lips together. Harry smiles at that, saying, "Good boy, Draco. Don't argue, you'll like this."

Harry can make sure of that.

Draco goes eerily silent as his entrance is touched. Harry's not about to push in, not yet, so he just rubs soft circles, waiting until his touch soothes Draco into relaxation; that's something they've worked on before and doesn't require any special effort on Harry's part. And soon enough, Draco sighs into the almost massaging touch, body growing heavy in Harry's arms.

His first finger goes in to the knuckle.

Draco stiffens, whimpering at the intrusion. "Shh," Harry tells him, mentally adding his spell. When Draco hurts the spell doesn't make him feel good, not the way Harry wants him to, but it does neutralize the pain until it can start working as Harry intends. Draco's gotten into a couple of fights as he changes and Harry always makes sure to be there afterward, touching the places that will bruise, kissing them as he convinces Draco's body first to not hurt, and then associate pleasure with Harry's enjoyment of those dark, spreading areas.

Draco doesn't complain when Harry grips too tightly anymore.

Eventually Draco squirms, whining again and Harry takes that as his cue to move. He begins slowly, barely moving his finger more than a millimeter at a time as he lets Draco loosen, riding out the burn. Soon Draco's panting, his cock all the way hard while he stares at it in amazement, two fingers working in and out of his arse. "I thought," he says. "I didn't like this."

"When?" Harry asks, mild as milk and suddenly horrifically angry.

Draco shivers, moaning louder than ever even as he burrows deeper into Harry's hold. "Me," he says, panting enough to make speaking difficult. "I t-tried a month ago, I wanted to see -- "

"Shhh," Harry says when Draco's voice falters. "Being adventurous, were you? Good, pet, I like that in you."

Draco can't speak, riding eagerly onto Harry's fingers, cock damp against his stomach, but he gives Harry a look that needs no voice to make him understand. _But I didn't like it, before!_

Harry kisses him, his own cock hard and desperate to be where his fingers are now. It won't be this time, unfortunately. He's got to wait, to make certain Draco loves being buggered, greedy and desperate for it, before he ever puts his cock inside him. It'll keep Draco always wanting it, always ready for whatever Harry wants from him.

"This time it's me," he tells Draco, pushing his thumb against his perineum, hard. "This time I'm the one fingering your pretty bum, opening you up like a girl. And what do you say, Draco?"

This is probably the earliest lesson, the one where Harry made him say it over and over, each time swamped under a wave of pressure until just saying the words can make him come, eager and molten inside. "Thank you, Harry," he whispers, cock leaking as he shifts harder and faster, whining continuously as he's fingered. "Thank you, oh, Harry, please, I need."

"Shhhh," Harry whispers, wiggling in a third and triggering his spell at the same time. "Shhh, you're being a very good boy for me. Come now," he orders. He's not done, not near, but Draco's easy to get up again making that loose, quiet time after orgasm almost as effective as Harry's spell. "Come, pet."

Draco's voice echoes harmlessly in the closet, safe where no one can possibly hear him. Harry's, "That's my good boy," is just as muffled.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Brandi.


End file.
